


Without Me

by ZenyZootSuit



Series: The Cop and the Rookie [2]
Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Assume Gay Even If Proven Straight, Blow Jobs, Dubcon-ish cuz Jamie is really drunk, Frank Reagan is Done with This Shit, M/M, Raging Bisexual Jamie Reagan, Rare Pairings, Reminiscing, Semi-Public Sex, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, poor communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenyZootSuit/pseuds/ZenyZootSuit
Summary: Jamie had truly godawful luck with relationships. And made The Worst decisions under the influence of too much whiskey.





	Without Me

**Author's Note:**

> So when I said “soon”, I meant in terms of the universe. Today’s story sponsored by Remind Me by Carrie Underwood, Without Me by Halsey, popular demand, and relationship problems. My new favorite pastime is projecting my issues onto Jamie Reagan and making him deal with it :) Disclaimer: I am so far behind, I haven’t seen season 8. 9, and most of 7. So I’m rolling with creative license, episode summaries, and wikipedia…:D

Jamie had just godawful luck with relationships, he lamented one evening over a glass of whiskey alone in his kitchen. He and Eddie had broken off their affections again earlier that day. This time, likely for good. It hadn’t been pretty, even if it had been fairly mutual. And it still just _sucked_.

Absolute awful fucking luck with relationships.

He could recognize the ones that really didn’t work. Like Sydney. She’d loved his law degree more than she’d ever loved him. And he’d never tell his brother, but he’d cried for a day and a half straight after Sydney left him, never mind the months upon months it took him to actually semi-get-over her. He never 100% got over anyone he’d really loved. Because he’d loved her, and her leaving had _hurt_.

Then there’d been the guys spread out over the years, mostly guys actually (though most of his family didn’t know that for a lot of reasons…with most of those reasons beginning and ending with his brother), he’d picked up in bars. A sixty-something guy he’d met while pig-drunk in a gay bar in Queens had told him to stop looking for Sunday-afternoon people in Saturday-night places.

“Yours is the face of man who wants love,” he’d said, oddly audible over the loud music. Jamie, fresh off a blowout fight with Eddie, had blown the first guy who asked in the filthy bathroom. It didn’t make the old man’s advice stop rattling around in his head.

And before he continues, quit judging him for his vices.

But the old man was right. He had so much love to give, but he also had so much rotten luck.

Before that, there had been Noble. He drained his glass and refilled it at the thought. Noble… In a different world, maybe that would have worked. In another world, maybe he would have loved him.

Maybe he had loved him anyway.

Noble was the first and only man Jamie had ever let fuck him. Jamie had broken so many rules for him, both his own and the actual law. Theirs had been a secret, and an intoxicating one. A passionate one.

“We should get out of here,” Noble had told him one night, arm around Jamie’s shoulders, Jamie’s head on his chest.

“How do you mean?”

“We should get out of New York. Go someplace. Denver? LA? Seattle? Just you and me. Nobody needs to know.”

“Are you asking me to run away with you?”

Jamie had said it jokingly and Noble went quiet for a long time. Jamie had been mostly asleep when he’d heard Noble say, “Yes.”

When he’d gotten back to his apartment the next day, he’d gotten in the shower and cried for 20 minutes. Because Noble loved Jimmy Riordan, not Jamie Reagan.

_If he’d loved Jamie Reagan, maybe he’d have gone with him._

The way Noble had looked at him when Jamie had given him the ultimatum outside his father’s house. He’d stopped fighting, just laid on the ground like the whole world was falling down around him and had looked at Jamie with a look of such utter betrayal and misery.

“Ti ho amato,” he’d whispered. Jamie didn’t know much Italian, hardly any really, but he knew that much. _I loved you_.

A single tear rolled down Jamie’s cheek. That one still got him on lonely nights, even after all those years.

He was also aware of his habit of romanticizing his past relationships. His relationship with Sydney was superficial at best, his relationship with Noble was a train wreck to put it lightly. He knew that.

And then, of course, there was the one he was the most prone to romanticize.

Yeah. The one with Renzulli. If you could even call it that, he supposed.

Probably one of the most ill-advised things he’d ever done had been to kiss his TO in the locker room of the 12th precinct, on the subway platform, to do…well, the other things he did in the 12th precinct locker room.

You’ve got to understand, thinking about Sydney and Noble _hurt_. It made his chest ache and, on gloomy, lonely nights, made him cry. But thinking about Renzulli made him smile. Sure, he got hit with nostalgia every now and again that made him miss the good old days patrolling the city with Renzulli. Joking all day… He’d been really happy then. He hadn’t known it, but he’d been really, really happy.

He couldn’t remember what it had been that had made him catch feelings for his TO. Maybe it was his perfect blend of seriousness and humor (he’d rolled his eyes at the nickname at the time, but thinking on Renzulli calling him ‘Harvard’ never failed to make him smile), his genuine concern for Jamie’s wellbeing, his sincerity. He wasn’t sure either exactly when the affection the Sergeant had always looked at him with shifted from strictly platonic to…whatever he’d felt for Jamie in the end.

He hadn’t been bad looking either.

He took another drink and mused that it had been too long since he’d seen his former TO.

********

His corner bar was oddly empty for a Saturday night, but he didn’t care. He just needed a drink in a public place before he made himself too sad alone in his apartment. He had half considered going to visit his father, but thought better of it. If he did that, he’d have to explain things.

Frank Reagan knew he was bi, knew he’d dated more men than women, knew exactly what his relationship with Noble Sanfino had been. He still didn’t want to have to talk about it. No, he just wanted anonymous company and a stiff drink.

He was halfway through his second whiskey when a familiar voice made him turn his head.

“Long time, no see, Harvard.”

Renzulli.

Jamie grinned like he hadn’t in a while.

“How’s it going, Sarge?”

And Renzulli smiled at him, too. The same tight, tired, yet still affectionate smile he’d been fixed with since Renzulli took the commendation for him.

_Since Jamie’d kissed him._

“It’s going, kid. It’s going.”

“Well sit, sit! Have a drink. Let’s catch up.”

Renzulli regarded him for a long moment before nodding. “Okay, kid.”

*******

They talked about a lot over a few glasses of whiskey, then a few beers.About everything and nothing. They laughed and they joked, just like old times (Jamie had missed Renzulli’s affectionate jabs more than he’d thought).

He leaned on one hand, whiskey cradled in the other, pleasantly buzzed with alcohol as he listened to Renzulli reminiscing about that one call they got that one time and wondered again exactly when he’d caught feelings for his former TO.

Perhaps it was the time they’d gotten thrown down a flight of stairs. With Renzulli down for the count, Jamie had held his gun in his hand, one arm thrown over the Sergeant’s chest as some minuscule form of protection, and propped himself up as much as his spinning head would let him, one goal in his mind: get his TO out of there in one piece.

Later, sitting in Renzulli’s hospital room, the other man had told Jamie about his father, how he wished Jamie could’ve met him, how Jamie was a good influence on him.

“ _I wish I could’ve met your father_ ,” Jamie had said, “ _so I could correct him on one thing. It’s you who’s a good influence on me_.”

No, couldn’t be. It was that moment, and later when he reflected on the day, that he’d realized that he was in deep.

Maybe it was the shift on Valentine’s Day, when Renzulli’d been telling him about his plans with his wife, the pasta e fagioli he’d been planning on making her because she loved it, and he couldn’t afford anything better. She’s a lucky woman, Jamie had thought, and had told his TO so.

No, maybe not. He’d definitely already caught feelings by then.

Or all the times Renzulli’d called him Jamie instead of Harvard (not that he minded the nickname, but it’s always nice to hear someone call you by your name).

He thought on all the hours they’d spent painting houses together, all the conversations they’d had, all the times they’d helped each other out, had each other’s backs.

“Hey, Reagan, you still in there?”

Jamie blinked himself out of his reverie. “Yeah, yeah I’m here. Long day. Maybe one too many of these.” He held up his glass.

Renzulli smirked. “And you keep drinking it.”

“Hell yes, I already paid for it.”

Renzulli laughed. “Cheers to that.”

Jamie watched Renzulli smile at him, watched his eyes linger on Jamie’s face for a second too long, and Jamie could remember how he’d caught feelings. It was the little things, namely that smile. That easy, open, affectionate smile. Renzulli’s heart on his sleeve. That was it. He hadn’t known it at the time, but he had been watching Renzulli catch feelings for him.

*******

Jamie hadn’t meant to stay so late. He swore he didn’t. But there he was at 1 in the morning, stumbling out of the bar and leaning against his former TO, happier than he’d been in a while. And drunker.

That must’ve been why it seemed like a good idea to catch Renzulli by the lapels of his jacket, pull him into the first alley he saw, and kiss him senseless. Because out of all his relationships, the one he missed the most was the one he’d never had.

And Renzulli planted one hand firmly in the center of Jamie’s chest and pushed him back.

“No, Jamie.”

The words knocked the breath out him. Awful, awful luck.

“Sarge…” he breathed.

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t change anything.”

“Except that it does.”

He would be horribly embarrassed about it later, but in the moment he was undeterred. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me!”

Renzulli was silent for a long moment. “And that girl, what’s her name, Janko? Eddie Janko? You still involved with her?”

Jamie’s mouth twitched. “She’s my partner. Can’t be romantically involved with your partner.”

Renzulli snorted at the irony. “But are you?”

Jamie’s heart clenched at the memory of the angry words and messy breakup of the day. “Not anymore.”

Renzulli gave him a half smile. “So I’m a rebound then?”

“No! No…” Jamie stepped forward, hands coming up to rest on Renzulli’s neck, thumbs brushing his jawline. “No…never…Never.” He rested his forehead against the other man’s and Renzulli’s hands came up to hold Jamie uncertainly by the waist, seemingly caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

“Sarge…” Jamie whispered again, lips a hair’s breadth away from the other man’s. “Tony…”

He heard the other man’s breath catch in his throat. Upon further reflection, Jamie didn’t think he’d ever called Renzulli by his first name.

Renzulli’s hands shifted on Jamie’s waist. Pulled him the slightest bit closer. So Jamie took a chance, closing the distance and kissing him again. Tentatively. Waiting to see what the other man would do.

Renzulli let him. Let him, and kissed him back. So Jamie went all in.

He had no idea how long they stood there wrapped up in each other’s arms, two beaten down old cops making out like teenagers. He would look back on it and realize exactly how drunk he must’ve been to do what he did. Liquid courage and all that.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Jamie had just been about to drop to his knees when Renzulli caught him by the elbow.“You’re way too drunk for that. _I’m_ too drunk for that.”

“‘M not, c’mon, let me…” Even plastered as he was, he cringed at the slight slur in his voice.

“No. Not in this state.”

“M’not drunk, I swear.”

Renzulli eyed him, unamused and unconvinced. “Uh huh.”

So Jamie wound an arm around his neck and kissed him some more.

“‘M fine,” he murmured against Renzulli’s neck a while later, where he’d just finished sucking an extremely ill-advised bruise ( or two...or three) into his throat. “I’m perfectly fine. I consent. Let’s do it…”

Renzulli rolled his eyes and pushed Jamie back to hold him at arm’s length.

“Alright, Harvard. Convince me you’re sober then. Walk in a straight line from here to there,“ he nodded at the opposite wall. “And I’ll consider it.”

When he let go of Jamie’s shoulders, Jamie took two steps and tipped clean over.

“Tripped…” he mumbled, rolling onto his back and grinning up at Renzulli, who smiled amusedly down at him, shaking his head.

“Sure. C’mon, ups-daisy.” He pulled Jamie to his feet and slung Jamie’s arm over his shoulder. “You’re much drunker than I thought…I’m putting you in a cab and sending you home.”

“No need. Live right there.” Jamie pointed across the street.

“Alright then.”

*******

And that’s how Renzulli ended up in Jamie’s apartment after dragging his drunk ass across the street and somehow up the stairs.

He’d put Jamie on a stool in the kitchen while he looked around for a glass of water.

“Where the hell do you keep your cups, Reagan?”

“Far left.” Jamie had his head pillowed on his arms as he watched Renzulli move around his kitchen, his mind coming up with some truly indecent thoughts.

“Drink this,” Renzulli said, putting a glass of water down in front of Jamie. “You’ll thank me in the morning.

Jamie hummed and drained it, the more negative effects of all the alcohol he’d drank starting to hit him.

“C’mon, now. Into bed with ya.”

And he let Renzulli half carry him over to his bed and pour him into it, half because he was three sheets to the wind and half so Renzulli wouldn’t be expecting it when Jamie tripped him and pulled him down to land on top of him and settle between his legs.

He ran a hand through Renzulli’s hair and pulled him down to kiss him before the other man could think better of it.

“Stay,” he whispered against Renzulli’s mouth. “You might not be as drunk as me, but you have had a few. Sleep it off here…”

Renzulli let Jamie kiss him a moment longer. Of course, Jamie hardly planned on sleeping and he hoped Renzulli didn’t either.

The other man’s weight between his legs felt _so good_ and his mouth was on Jamie’s throat and Jamie _wanted_ , wanted like he hadn’t since Noble.

And he would’ve let Renzulli do what he’d only ever let Noble do. He would’ve let Renzulli do whatever he damn well pleased. He wanted him to.

Renzulli pulled away from him. “Reagan—“

Jamie cut him off. “ ‘s Jamie. My name is Jamie. Use it.”

Renzulli sighed. “Jamie, I—“

“Shhhh” Jamie dragged him down into another kiss and ground up against him, effectively shutting him up.

He had no idea how long they were there, drunkenly making out and grinding against each other. At some point they’d managed to get out of their shirts.

Between the making out, the grinding, the alcohol, and the feeling of Renzulli’s bare skin on his, Jamie wasn’t going to last very long.

“I want you. I want you so bad,” he murmured against the other man’s lips.

“Jamie—“ But Jamie’s hands were at his belt, fumbling with the buckle and sliding under the waistband.

“I’d let you do anything, anything you wanted,” Jamie murmured as he ran his hand along the other man’s cock. Renzulli’s breath came heavy as he stared down at Jamie, hands running up and down Jamie’s thighs.

Oof.

Jamie ground the heel of his free hand against the bulge at his crotch and pulled the other out of Renzulli’s pants to better focus on getting out of his own.

Once successfully divested of them. He stretched out languidly on the bed and grinned up at his former partner, who was still kneeling between Jamie’s thighs, quite plainly drinking in the sight of Jamie naked on a bed.

Jamie pulled him down by his waistband and kissed him again.

“Your turn,” Jamie said when he broke it, running his hands over Renzulli’s bare back. The other man hesitated.

“You don’t think we’re a little too drunk for this?”

“No. Get those off and get over here and fuck me.”

“We are definitely too drunk for that.”

He was probably right. And it was definitely true that Jamie wouldn’t last long enough for it. So he did the logical thing, which was of course to flip them so Renzulli was on his back and Jamie was straddling his waist.

Once there, he rather ungracefully clambered down between the other man’s legs, fingers curled lightly under his waistband. Waiting for permission.

When Renzulli didn’t stop him, he pulled the other man’s pants and boxers down and off, letting his cock spring free.

Jamie licked his lips at the sight and glanced up at Renzulli. His former T.O. had propped himself up on one elbow and was looking down at Jamie, eyes fixed on Jamie’s face. So Jamie went all in.

Renzulli’s head fell back with a moan at the feel of Jamie’s mouth on his cock.

The heady rush of sex and alcohol was truly intoxicating, Jamie mused as he sucked his former T.O.’s cock for the second time.

Of hopefully many more.

It was hardly the best blowjob he’d ever given (may have even been one of the worst, who knows. Because, he realized, he really was drunk off his ass). He was vaguely aware that he was getting spit all over his face and he kept almost losing his balance where he was crouched down above his former partner, but Renzulli didn’t seem to care, his hands just this side of too tight in Jamie’s hair, harsh breaths rasping in his throat as Jamie swallowed around his cock.

And every one of those things kept sending bolts of pleasure and arousal straight to Jamie’s cock. He half thought he could come just from this, he was so wound up.

Renzulli breathily moaned his name in that wonderful Brooklyn accent and yes, Jamie could definitely come from just this.

“Jamie...”

He squeezed a two fingers tight around the base of his cock to stop himself from doing just that as Renzulli came down his throat, hands tightening in his hair.

Hot fucking damn.

Jamie pulled off with a lick of his lips, lust burning him alive as he surveyed his partner.

Renzulli was laid back on the bed, panting and looking thoroughly fucked out.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Jamie...”

Jamie smirked. “S’what I’m here for.”

Renzulli dragged Jamie up by the back of the neck to kiss him.

“Your turn,” he said when he broke the kiss, giving Jamie a grin and flipping them over.

Jamie’s head spun with the sudden change of position and his cock twitched in anticipation. “‘M not gonna last...”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Y’better...” His words cut off with a long moan as Renzulli licked a stripe up the underside of his cock.

“Tony...”

Had he been able to see in the dim room, he would’ve seen the other man’s eyes darken with lust at the use of his given name.

His former partner was good at this. Too good. And true to his word, Jamie had no chance of lasting.

He wouldn’t generally consider himself to be particularly loud in bed. He was never shy about indicating when something felt good. Having been known to get off on the sound of his partners’ pleasure himself, of course he would give them the same courtesy and not feel the slightest bit embarrassed about it.

It must have been the alcohol (or maybe it was just a tribute to Renzulli’s skill with his mouth), but he was _loud_.

“Tony, please...feels so good, don’t stop...don’t stop...” he moaned, probably loud enough that neighbors would hear him. He didn’t care, and neither did Renzulli.

He was close, right on the edge. A knuckle pressed behind his balls, right on his prostate was more than enough to tip him over the edge.

He’d never come so hard in his life, vision whiting out, back arching off the bed.

Holy hell...

*******

Oh, _God_ , his head. How much had he drunk...too much. Far too much. What time was it? He cracked open one eye.

It was then that Renzulli realized he wasn’t at home. And that he was naked as the day he was born.

Shit.

He blinked sleep out of his eyes and took in his surrounding. Unfamiliar. Shit. Shit. The clock said 4:30am. So he’s fallen asleep at a hookup’s place, shit.

Then he took in the face of the man sleeping next to him.

 _Oh, God_.

The man next to him was Jamie fucking Reagan. Everything came rushing back to him. Seeing him in the bar, talking with him. Kissing him in the alley, taking him home.

Sleeping with him.

The king of good decisions he was when he was drunk, wasn’t he? Fuck...

A heavy feeling of guilt started to weigh on his shoulders because Jamie had been drunk, hadn’t he. Very drunk. Much too drunk to have sex.

He felt sick.

He got dressed quickly and made his way to the door, but stopped before he got there and glanced back at Jamie. The other man was stretched languidly over the bed, peacefully asleep.

Renzulli’s eyes lingered on him for a long moment, a multitude of emotion warring behind his eyes. Maybe that was just the hangover. He wondered what he was going to say to his wife, how he would explain getting home so late. He wondered if Jamie would remember the events of the evening. What it would mean if he didn’t. 

_What are you talking about, you know what it means if he doesn’t._

Once outside, he threw up his guts in the alleyway next to Jamie’s apartment building.

*******

But Jamie very much did remember.

He woke up at noon the next day with a hangover to end all hangovers. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes to stave off the headache brewing in his temples. Shit, he had to be at his dad’s house to help with dinner in a few hours…

He had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? Who did he sleep with?

As the events of the previous night came back to him, he resigned himself to being late and pulled the blanket up over his head.

He’d slept with Renzulli (again). Great. Excellent. Work on Monday wasn’t going to be awkward at all.

...But he hadn’t just slept with him, Jamie slowly began to realize. No he’d...More than once he’d completely ignored Renzulli’s “no” and kept pushing him, hadn’t he? Kept pushing him until Renzulli agreed to have sex with him.

He, too, felt massively sick, and not just from his hangover.

*******

“You okay, Jamie?”

Jamie looked dully up at his father from where he was chopping peppers. “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Drank too much last night.”

Frank nodded slowly. “Does that have something to do with Eddie Janko?”

Oh. He’d actually forgotten about that. “A bit…things are done. Between us.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie swallowed hard. “…That’s not…what’s on my mind.”

Frank raised an eyebrow as Jamie went back to chopping peppers, unable to look at his father.

“I…I did something really stupid when I was drunk last night.”

“What kind of stupid?”

Jamie’s hands shook. He put the knife down.

“You…remember I date guys sometimes, right?”

“I do.”

“Saw an old friend at a bar last night…we’d kinda had a thing a long time ago…anyway, I got really drunk, started something. He said no, I kept pushing...”

He hung his head in shame.

“And then what happened?” Frank asked calmly in his Commissioner voice, clearly apprehensive of what Jamie was about to confess to.

“He gave in. He...we slept together…” Jamie ran a hand over his face. “He said no and I kept pushing until he did what I wanted. I feel terrible…”

Frank nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. “And he was as drunk as you?”

“I don’t know...He practically carried me back to my apartment and poured me into bed. So maybe not? But then I...well...”

“Does this friend have a name?”

Jamie’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t respond.

Frank fixed him with his Commissioner stare for a long moment before continuing. “Well, Jamie, in all honesty, it seems to me that he was the one who took advantage of you when you were intoxicated rather than the other way around.”

Jamie stared at him like he had antlers growing out of his ears. “…What?”

“Think of it like this. Say, Nicki came to you and told you the story you just told me. She got really drunk and ended up doing stuff with someone sober, who then ‘carried’ her home and ‘poured her into bed’ and then slept with her.” He shrugged. “Are you concerned?” He pointedly eyed his son. Jamie was unamused.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m certain he didn’t rape me,” he hissed before sighing. “I see what you’re saying. I would be concerned. But, Nicki is 17. I’m 35.”

“Like age matters.”

“That’s not the point! No part of me feels that he took advantage of me. I wanted everything that happened. I just feel like I pushed him into doing it.”

Frank was quiet again for a while. “Then call him and tell him that.”

“Yeah…”

“And maybe don’t drink so much next time.”

“Yeah.”

*******

He resolved to do it in person, and rehearsed it the whole way to work on Monday.

_Just go up to his desk, tell him you want to speak to him privately. If he accepts, tell him you’re sorry about what happened, you drank too much, and shouldn’t have pushed him and you apologize if... And if he declines…live with it and never do it again._

Renzulli’s face already looked drawn as if he hadn’t slept in days even before he laid eyes on Jamie. As soon as he did, his face fell even more. Jamie steeled his nerves.

“Hey, Sarge, can I talk to you privately for a sec?”

Renzulli nodded without looking at him, putting a file down on his desk and motioned for him to follow him out back.

The door shut behind Jamie with an ominous click and Jamie drew in a breath to begin his spiel. Renzulli beat him to it.

“Jamie, I am so, _so_ sorry about what happened. You were drunk, I took advantage of you. It was inexcusable, and…and I completely understand if you want to report it to my supervisor. I’ll own up to it.”

Jamie started at him, mouth gaping like a fish. Renzulli still wasn’t looking at him, had his gaze fixed on the concrete in front of him, looking truly penitent.

“I’m the one who took advantage of you,” Jamie finally got out. That had Renzulli looking up at him in shock.

“What?”

“You told me no and I didn’t listen. I pushed you until you did what I wanted. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“What are you talking about? You were drunk off your ass, I wasn’t. Anything that happened is on me.”

Relief flooded through Jamie with such force that before he could think twice he had thrown his arms around Renzulli’s shoulders and buried his face in his neck. Renzulli’s hands immediately came up to hold him.

“Jamie—“

“I thought I coerced you into sex,” Jamie mumbled into Renzulli’s jacket. The Sergeant’s arms tightened around Jamie’s back.

“Harvard, you’re falling off with your law skills,” he murmured into Jamie’s hair. “Messing up the definition of coercion. You did not force me to do anything.” Renzulli shook his head and leaned his head on Jamie’s. “God, I thought I’d assaulted you…”

Jamie huffed a laugh. “No way, Sarge. I started everything, I remember everything, and I consented to everything.”

Renzulli held him tight a minute longer. “That’s a weight off my chest, good God…”

Jamie felt as though his grin could split his face. Renzulli pulled back and smiled too as he shook his head at Jamie.

“As if a gorgeous kid like you would have to coerce a tired old man like me into having sex with you.”

“I’m not so young anymore.”

“Pffftttt, younger than me.”

Jamie laughed. Renzulli’s face took on a more serious edge. “Listen...that can’t happen again, Reagan.”

Jamie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll never drink that much again. I promise.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jamie sighed. “…I know.”

They stood in silence for a long time, surveying the alley behind the precinct. Renzulli snorted at something. Jamie turned to look at him.

“What?”

Renzulli grabbed the collar of his NYPD thermal shirt and tugged it down to reveal the bruises Jamie had left. “Are you serious, Reagan?”

Jamie grinned sheepishly. “Oops.”

Renzulli shook his head at him. “Do you have any idea of the ugly-ass sweater I had to pull out to hide these?”

“Hey, you weren’t complaining.”

Renzulli grumbled at him unintelligibly. “Guess I was drunker than I thought.” Jamie chuckled. Renzulli’s voice took on a more serious tone. “We good, Reagan?”

“We’re good, Sarge.”

“Good.” He clapped Jamie on the shoulder again and turned to go back inside. Jamie watched as he paused at the door, before turning back and, after glancing around briefly, grabbed Jamie by the back of the neck and kissed him. Jamie melted into it instantly, fingers twisting in the material of Renzulli’s jacket.

Renzulli broke it after a long moment and stepped back. “No more, Reagan.”

Jamie looked him in the eye and reached out to pull him back in, kissing him one more time, just once more. For real this time. “No more, Sarge,” he agreed, albeit grudgingly.

Renzulli gave him a tight lipped smile swiped his thumb once over Jamie’s hairline before going back inside. Jamie, on the other hand, sat down with his back against the wall of the precinct and continued to survey the alley as he tried to figure out if that had ended well or not. He couldn’t decide.

*******

“What were you and Renzulli talking about this morning?” Eddie asked him as they got in the car to go on patrol.

Jamie barely glanced at her. His chest ached.

“Nothin’.”

He could feel her frown. “Nothing?”

“Nothin’.”

**_El Fin_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> I....don't do happy endings. Oops
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Part 3 coming "soon"


End file.
